No One Is Alone
by LastOneOut
Summary: "Anna, you don't even like me." "No..." she said, "But Elsa did. That means something, right?" - Elsa dies and Hans mourns alone, until Anna finds him. Helsa with Hans/Anna hate-friendship. TW for death and drinking with some swearing.


" _Let it be known that Her Majesty Queen Elsa of Arendelle has died this day..."_

The words still echoed in Hans' head. He buried his face in his hands, trying to block them out, but as hard as he tried they still rang as clearly as they had that morning. Sickness, a simple fever left unchecked blossomed into something even the queen of ice couldn't fight off. He had stayed by her side for three days(Anna being forbidden to stay for more than a few moments at a time, she couldn't risk catching the plague, she was the spare after all) only leaving for meals and fresh clothes. He held her close, helped give her medicine and wipe the glistening sweat from her skin. And he painfully watched as her labored breathes finally faded, and her once pale skin, still flush with fever, grew cold. He had wanted to scream, to cry and fight, but he couldn't think, he couldn't even breathe.

Once the doctor was called and those horrible words were said he fled, retreating to some dark wing of the castle. He hid himself carefully next to a dresser in a hall way, curled up against the wall. No one had come to find him.

He hated the silence, nothing to stop his thoughts from racing, from remembering, but the bustle and shock of the castle staff was too much for him. It was better to mourn alone, he thought bitterly. No one to coddle him or ask if he was ok. Just his thoughts and the burning hole where Elsa was supposed to be.

A he had been sitting for a few hours he heard gentle footsteps and a quiet voice, calling his name.

"Hans? I know you're here." Anna. He swore under his breath, she was the last person he wanted to deal with.

"Go away, Anna." She came into view despite his protest, a frustrated glare gracing her features. She held a tankard(looking like she had nabbed it from a tavern, not a castle kitchen) filled with some drink, and was missing her shoes, the only thing wrong with her oddly pristine outfit. There were no tear streaks on her face, no red eyes or blotchy skin. She put her hand on her hip, glare intensifying, "Thats rude."

"What do you want." his voice was filled with venom, lashing out as his grip on his arms tightened.

"I brought you some tea." She said flatly.

"Tea?"

"Well...it's mostly tea," She added, giving the tankard a passing glance, "Can I?" She gestured to the spot next to him. He looked down, shrugging. She slid to the floor, handing him the drink. He took a quick swig, the liquid burning a trail down his throat. _'Mostly tea my ass.'_ He took another long pull before handing her back the mug.

"What are you doing here, Anna?" He asked, looking over at her. She was remarkably composed, all things considered, sitting beside him. She slouched slightly, her legs spread, looking more the picture of a kid who was told they were grounded then someone who's sister had just di-. He shook his head, his eyes stinging at the thought. He wasn't going to cry in front of Anna. He ran a hand down his face, taking a deep breath.

"What'd you mean?" She asked, more a statement than a question.

"I mean, why do you want to talk to me. Shouldn't you be off crying somewhere?" He didn't feel like pulling his punches, "Locking yourself in your room? Hiding from everyone?"

"Like you?" she deadpanned. He turned his head away like he'd been slapped, an angry blush staining his cheeks. She stared at him for a moment before sighing and looking away.

"Its like...I'm in shock or something. Everyone keeps asking me if I need anything, acting like I'm about to just break down at any moment. Even Kristoff...It's weird you know...," She set the mug down and pulled her legs up, mirroring his posture., "I cry about everything. Sad stories, burnt cakes, stubbing my toe...I cried a lot when my parents died...but now I cant cry, not even a little." She smiled sadly, "Maybe Im just used to it."

He scoffed, "You can't get used to people dying."

"Have you ever lost anyone?" She asked, ignoring his comment, reaching out and toying with the rim of the mug.

"Not anyone I cared enough to mourn for."

"I'd figured."

"What are you then, some kind of expert in mourning?" He snapped, glaring at her, "If you're gonna be like this then why do you just go do it somewhere else and leave me alone!?"

She met his gaze, her face stoic against his rage. Wordlessly she reached down and handed him the mug. He let out a frustrated groan before snatching the mug from her and downing the rest of the drink. Slamming it on the ground he tried to ignore the tears burning in his eyes, focusing instead of the sharp bite of the alcohol in his stomach. They sat like that for a while, Hans trying desperately not to cry while Anna's eyes blankly switched between him and the wall across from them.

"Look...I just." She sighed, "When my parents died I was alone, ok? I thought that maybe Elsa would finally come out of her stupid room and we could at least mourn together. But no, she stayed locked up while I tried to cope. I buried them alone. I cried alone. And at last, one day I figured out how to move on alone." Anger filled her voice, a stark change from the emotionless drawl she had spoken with until then, "Maybe thats how I handle this now, but I also know how much it sucks, and I didn't want you to have to deal with that. I didn't figure anyone else would offer so here I am."

He stared at her, "What if I want to be alone?"

She let out an empty laugh, "Yeah, right." She reached over and picked up the tankard, the glass bottom falling out, "You could have saved some for me." she mumbled.

"Oh, I am sorry miss queen of loss, I'll be more courteous next time." She laughed then, a real one, and smiled, leaning back against the wall.

"Thats the other reason I came to find you. I couldn't stand being treated like a damn china doll. I knew you wouldn't do that."

Hans ran his hand through his hair, "I've never been the nicest guy." He shook his head, a mirthless smile gracing his features. "Anna, you don't even like me."

"No..." she said, "But Elsa did. That means something, right?"

He brought a hand up, pushing his bangs back and chuckling. "Well, what was she thinking, right?" he muttered, taking a deep shuddering breath and turning away from her. His face contorted, his hand quickly covering the tears that began to make their way down his face. She reached out, gently patting him on the back as his breathes turned to sobs and his shoulders shook.

"I'm going to miss her too."

–

If later that night Anna and Hans snuck down to the kitchen, if they raided the wine and whiskey and ended up sprawled across a couch in the library drinking and arguing, if Anna finally broke down and Hans couldn't hide his tears anymore, and if they woke up half on the floor and still in their clothes from the day before, throats dry and heads pounding, and then woke half the castle yelling about feet in faces and space unfairly shared, well, at least they weren't alone.


End file.
